A Moment

When I awoke this morning, I never saw it coming. This morning was like every other morning for a mom of two school age children, my little girl and boy. I rousted them out of bed with gentle persuasion against sleepy protests, got them to get dressed, brush their teeth, made them eggs, muffins, and cereal to eat, then sent them scurrying for that pale yellow bus that honked impatiently for their trip to school. A kiss for each. It was so normal. I was an average mom with a life at that time that was not so stressful. Plenty of money, stayed at home, I took pleasure in cooking meals and planting out a gorgeous vegetable garden.

Perhaps it was a thought that started it off, a particular word, the amount of people, even a scent or just a faint memory. I will never know. Singing along to the strains of Gary Allen occupied my drive in the car. I arrived at the Shop Smart armed with a list and a pen. I gathered up the first cart I could see, its metal bars rattling and walked the aisles picking and choosing cautiously. It certainly was a bit crowded. This was a big store even. The remnants of the night crew hurried around me making sure all the products faced forward on their shelves, tidied up leftover cardboard, sweeping up bits of spilled flour or sugar. I always appreciated their industry. I stopped in the vegetable aisle and picked up a can of corn to inspect the label. As I read I became aware of booted feet behind me. They became louder and I shifted almost nervously from one foot to another. I didn't like the sound of it.

I glanced over my shoulder and was immediately sorry I had. Hands were reaching for me. A terrible sneer loomed over me and my heart raced in an agonizing effort to keep up with my sudden gasps of air. There were at least seven or ten of them around me, bigger than life, reaching, snarling gravelly voices. There were screams all around me. I clenched my jaw against the inevitable. I could hear tearing cloth and those terrible boots squealing on the waxed floor. My muscles clenched in spasms. Chilled sweat drenched me and I felt tears blossom on my eyelashes. It was happening to me! To me! Incoherent thoughts as I begged please...please stop. It felt like hours. It had to have been hours, I thought. I was in a different place. From somewhere in the back of my head a tiny voice told me to breathe. It was the faintest of whispers, and I thought that if I did it would kill me, but I did it. Once..then again.. After awhile breathing became easier, then almost normal again.

Intermittently the agony began to subside and the pain began to fade. The tears remained. I felt my hand clenched on the can and I saw the label again. I swallowed and then swallowed again. I forced my hand to relax. I placed the can back on the shelf as my hand shook as wildly as a leaf in a fall windstorm. No more screams, no more pain, no more sounds but the sounds of shoppers and employees. Background music in the store. I surreptitiously wiped my eyes with a sleeve. When I walked out the door I had finally convinced myself that there were no angry men, no boots, only the raging and uncontrollable fear of a panic attack that kept me prisoner in my own soul.